Rus Articles Journal

The sun - a bonus, what time is it now?

Someone bad pasted two yellow leaves on a birch, grunted enough and whirled away with a paint bucket in a beak. Let`s not catch up with

What time is it now?

We grew up a sunflower in a green plastic bucket. More precisely, it not we - he grows, and not when put, from that day as on Lermontovsky Avenue at shop of needlework I saw the tree which grew in a musornik. That`s it since then we admire flowers, we collect peas and we are guided on the personal sun on the terrace located on the fourth floor. A terrace in buckets. And gray morning can be gray for anyone, but not for us: the personal sun looks on the left and sideways: 9th mornings, companions! Do not forget about the dog, a ginger flat dish to sandwich and tomorrow`s issue of the magazine. And now look vooo - N there. There - the road to the city, summer and fervent, with the baron Shtiglits on New Peterhof and cheerful lambs over it. There, further away, we can present Pushkinskaya Street, and know, on a big secret: on this street there is Alexander Sergeyevich with surprising feature. If on the street it is silent and deserted (and at 9 in the morning there cars much more, than people), it is possible to see how it fervently throws up hands to disobedient curls and ruffles them three sharp movements. Twists the head, squats, clears the throat and accepts a pose familiar to you. It is observed by residents of houses and stulik with a little table, longing end-to-end to small cafe. But they will not tell you about it - why to them crowds curious at 9 in the morning? And all of you equally will not believe me .

Midday! my sunflower is similar

to the plate spinning on a finger of an outstretched arm hudyushchy ekv - the actor in green body stockings. All the time did not begin to throw and go yet. At this time on Martyshkino`s hills the softest light, from far away it is visible the huge liners leaving by swimming still crickets are silent, and on the run wild bushes which ran away from owners raspberry hangs and is heated. Trees rustle, having grown soft from heat, and slightly slightly open the real old times, heavy history, but not an old age Long come downstairs in four flights of the grandmother from ingermanlandsky arrival, from service. In the bottom of them warm raspberry - one more ceremonial dish of a participle waits.

Midnight? my sun watches

at Oranienbaum. There the ancient park and its palaces - strange, different, ailing breathes dew. There electric trains and workers of terminals ugomanivatsya. There something like a decline, to be exact, of a weather forecast - a clear sky over trees - prepare bathing suits for tomorrow. And there is no decline there, it is absent at all - what for? we will make up in the Winter

my personal sun inclined the head, and is heard as sleeps. Having taken a cycle the head, it turns the case, slightly in advance, to the left again. Not to have osteochondrosis and the 9th mornings, companions!